


Booking?  We have a problem...

by twistedchick



Category: The Muppet Show
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2739386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedchick/pseuds/twistedchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kermit has to reschedule a lot when the wrong guest shows up for the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booking?  We have a problem...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinetikatrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinetikatrue/gifts).



“Mr. Foxx, Mr. Jamie Foxx. Sixty seconds to curtain, Mr. Foxx."

Scooter put his head into the dressing room where The Muppet Show's guest of the week was waiting to go onstage. The guest in question was standing, somewhat bemused, looking at the posters, the mirrored dressing table covered with makeup jars, the costumes on the rack. Apparently he'd already decided to dress for the historical number, which seemed odd as it had been rescheduled for next week.

"Mr. Foxx, you need to get back into your regular clothes. The historical number isn't until later," Scooter said.

The guest turned toward Scooter and smiled sweetly. "But these are my ordinary garments," he said.

Scooter blinked. "I'm sorry, but you don't look a lot like your pictures, Mr. Foxx." He checked his clipboard for the name. "You are Jamie Foxx, aren't you?"

The guest shook his head. "It pains me to grieve thee, friend, but I fear there has been some mistake. I am George Fox, not Jamie. I am a Quaker."

"Ohhhh. That explains the truckload of oatmeal, motor oil and parrots that were delivered downstairs." Scooter remembered his hospitality skills. "Is there anything I can get you while we sort this out? A cup of coffee?"

"That would be most kind of thee. I thank thee." George Fox smiled at him warmly. "I fear that I cause thee no little anxiety, and for that I apologize."

A small sweet-faced frog nudged at his elbow. "Scooter, they're waiting to begin. Kermit sent me."

"Robin, there's been a mistake. This isn’t Jamie Foxx, it's George Fox, and he doesn't know the skit, or the musical number, I think."

"Oh no! Uncle Kermit is not going to be happy."

"Would you get a cup of coffee for Mr. Fox while I go find Kermit?" He turned back to George Fox. "How do you like your coffee?"

"However it may please thee to bring it. It was a luxury for me for a long time, so I appreciate it in any manner."

"Sure thing, boss."

Robin must have run into Kermit on the stairs because Kermit was there in an instant. "Robin said there's been a mix-up in the booking?" He looked past Scooter and his jaw dropped open. "You're really not Jamie Foxx, are you?"

"No, friend frog, I am not. I am George Fox, founder of the Society of Friends of Truth, sometime known as Quakers, a name we accept with humility."

"Humility. That's something we haven't had on this stage in a while," Kermit murmured under his breath. He moved into the room and made a small bow. "I'm Kermit the Frog, and I'm the host of the Muppet Show." 

"It is good to meet thee, friend Kermit. I thank thee for this comfortable accommodation while I wait." George Fox waved a hand at the room in general. "In the past I have waited far longer in places far less healthful or pleasant."

"Where was that?" Kermit inquired.

"Derby Prison."

"Prison?" Scooter looked their guest over; he seemed to be a mild-mannered gentleman, even if he was dressed as if he was Ben Franklin going camping or something. Those leather breeches had seen some hard times. "Why were you in prison?"

George Fox smiled at Scooter. "I refused to take an oath. I refused to fight. I treated everyone as equals." He shrugged, as if it really didn't matter. "My friends and I sat quietly in worship in a field instead of going to a church. And I was said at times to be preaching without a license, though none should need one to speak of truth."

"Preaching without a license? Isn't that sort of like stand-up?" Fozzie Bear leaned in over Scooter's shoulder. "Hello! You're not Jamie Foxx. I'm Fozzie Bear."

"This is George Fox, Fozzie. He's a famous Quaker."

"That's cool. How long have you been playing rhythm? Sometimes I need a drummer along with my piano."

"He's not a musician, Fozzie. He's a Quaker." Scooter whispered in Fozzie's ear, which twitched.

"Ohhhhh. A famous Quaker! That's why we have all those oatmeal boxes downstairs." Fozzie scratched his ear. "I think I've got a song about breakfast food somewhere. I'll go look it up." Fozzie waved to George Fox and wandered off down the stairs. 

Scooter was really glad Kermit was in charge when things like this happened, because he always knew what to do. 

"Excuse me," came from behind him. It was Robin with the coffee, followed by a small flock of gray parrots who flew in and settled on top of the mirror and on the dressing table. Robin handed the coffee to George Fox, who thanked him and sipped it, at first with surprise and then with pleasure.

"This is excellent coffee, most flavorful and smooth. I thank thee, little friend."

"I'm Robin, sir."

"It was kind of thee, friend Robin." George Fox settled himself in the armchair and continued sipping the coffee. "I am sure thou and thy fellows will sort this out."

"Friend George," Kermit said, with care, "I gather you're not a song-and-dance man, or an actor. What, um, do you do? We're holding the curtain right now and the audience is getting a little upset."

"I talk to people about peace, about making an end to strife, about following the Light that is within them. Thou hast a strong light within thee, friend Kermit; it shows in thy kindness."

"That's very good of you to say, Mr. – er, Friend George. Would you excuse me for a moment?" Kermit turned back to Scooter. "Tell them to cue up the antiwar protest number and follow that with the social equality number and the environmental number. And we'll figure something out."

"Kermie? Kermie! KERMIE! They've given me the wrong dress! You've got to DO SOMETHING." Miss Piggy elbowed her way past Scooter, indignant as always. "We're not doing the 17th Century number till next week, with The Rock."

"Apparently we're doing it today, too, Piggy. This is George Fox, the founder of Quakerism. George, this is Miss Piggy."

"Oh my." Miss Piggy batted her long eyelashes and went into a deep curtsy. "It's an honor to meet you."

"I am delighted to meet thee as well, friend Piggy. I can see that the Light shines strongly in thee. But we are equals; thou needst not curtsy to me."

Miss Piggy rose, confusion on her face. "Thanks, I think. Kermit?"

"I'm working on it, Piggy."

"Keep working." She elbowed her way out of the room, muttering, "I practiced that damn curtsy for a week, and what thanks do I get? It's not easy to manage four layers of skirt and a hooped petticoat!"

While Kermit had been speaking to the others, Scooter noticed, the gray parrots had all settled quietly on the dressing table in a circle, sitting as if roosting, with their eyes closed. Occasionally one of them would stand a little taller and chirp a few times, and the others would listen and nod their heads, until the speaker settled again.

"What are they doing?" Scooter asked, fascinated. "I've never seen birds do that before."

"They are holding a Quaker meeting," George Fox said.

Kermit, who had noticed this as well, nodded his head in time with the currently chirping parrot, until he realized he was doing it and stopped. "That gives me an idea for a great interpretive dance number. Set it up, will you, Scooter?"

"Sure thing, boss! Oh — the chickens are on vacation. But we have Naylor’s Dancing Clydesdales filling in for them."

“That could be interesting. We can use the oil cans in the environmental number – just don't let Animal near them, whatever you do. He'll either use them as drums or try to drink all the oil." Kermit was thinking quickly. "Oatmeal, oatmeal, what can I do with a half-ton of oatmeal?"

"Fake snow?"

"Maybe. Ask Sweetums to move it further offstage until we're sure." Kermit took a deep breath. "This is going to work."

"I have no doubt thou wilt figure something out, friend. Thou seems most capable and wise in thy occupation."

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you calling everyone 'thee' and 'thou' instead of 'you'?"

"It is plain speech, which is the older form. 'Thee' or 'thou' is what one calls someone who is an equal, and it is also the singular, meant for use with one person only, while 'you' is plural. And, where I came from, 'you' was primarily used when addressing one's supposed social betters." George finished the coffee and set the cup carefully on a side table. "That was indeed a delicious drink. Please convey my gratitude to whoever made it."

"You learn something every day." Kermit said. "I'll let the Swedish Chef know you liked his coffee. Plain speech? Hmm. Sam the Eagle might be able to do something with that. And the Clydesdales had some ideas about a tap number they wanted to do with you, but since you don't dance … " Kermit backed toward the door. "Excuse me, I have to go see some horses about a plan. Don't go away."

"I'll be here." George nodded in acknowledgment and leaned a little closer to the dressing table to hear what one of the parrots was saying.

**Author's Note:**

> George Fox did, indeed, use plain speech -- however, the form of plain speech that he used in England is not quite the same as that used in America by later Quakers. I have tried to adhere to the earlier form for him, and apologize for any errors.
> 
> Neither Quaker Oats nor Quaker State Motor Oil are Quaker-owned companies. Quaker parrots have that name because the shades of gray they wear are similar to those worn by some conservative Quakers in the 19th Century.
> 
> Thanks to zlabya for beta-reading.


End file.
